


i want to kiss like my heart is chasing me down

by bratainamerica



Series: no matter how hard i try, this is only ever gonna end in my demise [2]
Category: House M.D.
Genre: But like subtle bc theyre both denying theyre gay, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dirty Jokes, Domestic Fluff, Drinking, Fluff and Humor, Friends With Benefits, Greg House Being an Idiot, Greg House is Bad With Emotions, Greg House is responsible but only for a second, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Making Out, Pining, Pre-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Robert Chase Being an Idiot, Robert Chase is Better Than House With Emotions, Sharing Clothes, Sleepovers, Still, Unrequited Crush, but still bad, chase is a horny drunk, first work not needed to understand but would be beneficial to read, he has two cats, i bully chase so badly, it's small but it's there, its more referenced in passing, just to be safe it's mature, lowkey-romantic?, not really tho, pre-canon still no foreman im sorry i love and miss him, second chapter is a bit more graphic but nothings like in detail detail, slight - Freeform, very slight, were ignoring it, yes i named them terribly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:01:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24940510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bratainamerica/pseuds/bratainamerica
Summary: Four months. Four sleepovers. A whole lot of bullshit. House knew that sleeping with Chase was no strings attached, his subconscious didn't get the memo.** THIS IS THE SECOND WORK IN A SERIES, OTHER WORKS NOT NEEDED BUT RECOMMENDED FOR BEST ENJOYMENT**
Relationships: Robert Chase/Greg House
Series: no matter how hard i try, this is only ever gonna end in my demise [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1792645
Comments: 16
Kudos: 84





	1. month one

**Author's Note:**

> hey y'all! this is a multi-chapter work, because it's multi-chapter it'll most likely be updated once a week. i'm sorry in advance! this is the second installment in my house and chase fwb au! i'm still learning how to write house characters so please give me feedback, especially on the characters. i'm always interested in learning and getting better. kudos and comments are much appreciated! thank you all for reading, i hope you enjoy!
> 
> xoxo, ollie
> 
> title from "Townie" by Mitski

It took a lot to wake Chase up. He was a deep sleeper with a lack of movement and could sleep through quite literally everything. So, to have something banging on his door so loud that it woke him up was surprising. And, holy fuck, was it loud. He was sure that the next hit would've caused his neighbors to kill him if he hadn’t gotten up. 

Chase slept in his boxers, he was far too lazy to put on a t-shirt before opening his door. He draped the comforter over his shoulders, burrowing into the blanket. House would’ve remarked that wombats burrow into their homes just like Chase was burrowing into the blanket. Chase would’ve told him to fuck off. 

He went over to the door, expecting to see a homeless man, or some psycho killer but instead his boss, and fuck buddy was standing at the door. Chase rolled his eyes at the older man, waving to him with one arm before closing the door with a slam and going back to bed.

It took ten minutes for the incessant rapping of House’s cane against the door to piss off Chase enough that he got out of bed again. The blonde still refused to put on a shirt as it was his house and he controlled what he wore when he was in it alone. And maybe, he wanted to distract House with his chest. Be opened the door to House’s piercing blue eyes and idiotic smile. 

“What do you want?” He asked with a cool edge to his voice. It didn’t work very well as Chase was groggy from being woken up. If House was being honest, he would’ve admitted he likes Chase’s voice sounding like that.Yet, House would never admit he likes another person. “I have neighbors, you know.”

House looked him up and down, seemingly about to answer with a witty remark, but stopped. He let out a snort. “Are you wearing… kangaroo boxers?” He teased lightheartedly for once. Chase stared at him. 

Chase looked down at himself, seeing he was wearing kangaroo boxers. “Fuck off.” He flicked House off. House gave him an innocent look, acting as if he hadn’t come all the way over to Chase’s to piss him off. 

“Hey, is that any way to talk to your boss?” House gave him a look that made Chase want to shut the door in his face and never speak to him again. Instead, Chase just settled for sighing.

“No, but it’s the way I talk to someone who has seen my dick and shows up at my house in the middle of the night.” Chase gave an innocent smile that made House snort. Obviously, something was entertaining. Most likely Chase’s (bad) attempt at a joke.

“Why do you own those?” Why that was a relevant question, Chase did not know. Honestly, Chase didn’t know if he wanted to know. Chase looked at him in confusion, House seemed to want an actual answer. Chase sighed yet again, as he did, he realized that was probably a common occurrence around House.

“They were a gift.” Why Chase actually answered the question, was something he definitely didn’t want to know. Naturally, the question was a lie, but he didn’t want to tell House he bout them for himself because he thought they were funny. House didn’t seem placated. “Any other unnecessary questions?”

“Why are you wearing them?” It seemed like a bad attempt at foreplay. Something Chase has learned that House was _very_ good at. Now that Chase actually had a good look at the older man in front of him, something seemed _off_. 

“I didn’t expect a fuck buddy,” Chase ignored House’s ruffled feathers at the use of ‘a’, because even though, Chase hadn’t slept with anyone else since they started, it felt weird to announce that, “to show up at my house in the middle of the night, pardon me for not wearing lingerie to sleep.” He also ignored House’s brightened cheeks at that. Trust the perverted old man to be aroused by that.

“Sounds hot, you should do that.” House looked enthralled by the joke of an idea. Chase glared at the man. 

“I’m not wearing lingerie for you.” Chase didn’t know if he wouldn't. But, he wasn’t admitting that to House. 

“Shame.” No, no, it was _not_ a shame. He would hit rock bottom and flee the country before he admitted to House that maybe, just maybe, the thought of wearing lingerie was hot for him too. 

“Great, now that we’ve settled that. Why are you here?” Chase gave him a puzzled look, looking him up and down, really taking in his rumpled clothes, and overtired look (although House never really looked rested), a smell that Chase hadn’t noticed before, scotch, or maybe it was whiskey, finally met his nose. “Wait, are you drunk?” 

House shrugged. “A bit, Wilson wouldn’t pick me up and I’m responsible; so I didn’t drive,” he said as if it was simple, and truly it was. Still, why did he come to Chase’s instead of catching a cab home? “Your place was closest. And, I wanted to see your cute ass,” House said with a wink. 

Chase couldn’t help the flush that went to his cheeks. “Christ, House. Get inside.” House gave Chase a stupid grin that made Chase’s knees go a little week. He rolled his eyes as he gestured House inside. 

House entered, automatically going to sit on Chase’s couch, but stopping when he noticed a ball of fur on the couch. “What the fuck is that?” Chase, who had just grabbed House a bottle of water and was leaving the kitchen, looked at the couch.

“She’s one of my cats,” he stated plainly, reaching down to pet the animal and hand the bottle of water to House. House's eyes widened, was it really that shocking that Chase owned a pet? “Drink up, I am not going to listen to you complain about a hangover tomorrow.” 

“Where the hell was it the last time I was here?” House asked, sitting on the couch cushion as far away from the cat as possible. Chase had sat on the floor next to her, petting her and appeasing the sleeping animal. “And, I don’t _get_ hangovers.”

“ _She_ was locked in the kitchen. I didn’t know how you felt about cats, and I certainly wouldn’t want them in my room while you were fucking me.” House scowled at the animal now purring loudly on the couch. Chase leaned over and kissed her head before sitting on the couch next to House.

“You have multiple?” House asked, either he really hated cats or was really surprised. Chase nodded, glancing over to the bedroom and back to House. 

“I have two,” Chase told him. Right after he realized that, yes, two were multiple. House repeated the ‘so multiple’, causing Chase to give him a hard glare. “Their names are Lo and Behold.” 

House snorted, cracking a grin. “You didn’t name your cats that.” At Chase's silence, House turned somber. “Please tell me you’re just fucking with me because I’m drunk.” Chase cocked his head to the side. “Is this a joke?” 

Chase shook his head. “No?” House stared at him with a look that Chase couldn’t quite read. “That was Behold. Lo is in my bedroom.” House didn’t know how to respond, truly he was just shocked with Chase’s idiocy.

“Those names are the stupidest things I’ve ever heard. And I’ve been forced to speak to patients recently.” Chase pouted softly and pushed House’s shoulder. “You're an idiot.”

“I’m hurt.” Chase joked, a sloppy smile spreading across his face. He looked at the time, he- _they_ had work in the morning. Chase sighed softly, stopping the conversation and light hearted mood, “I’m gonna get bedding for the couch. I’ll be right back.” 

As Chase stood up, House grabbed his wrist and pulled him down, pressing a kiss on his lips. A shock, but a welcome shock. House smelt like alcohol and the lingering taste burnt his lips in the best way. Chase smiled into the kiss, House pulled him closer. “You should stay here,” House whispered into Chase’s lips, Chase shook his head with a chuckle.

“I’m not sleeping with you while you're drunk,” Chase responded, pulling away only to be pulled back for one more short kiss. Chase allowed himself to be pulled in, almost surprised that House had kissed him at all since they weren't about to have sex. 

But, that might be it, Chase noticed. Kissing House was addicting. House was an ass, everyone and their parents knew that. He was harsh and brazen. All sharp edges, and didn’t know how to actually connect with a human being. Much less, have a steady relationship, outside of his friendship with Wilson (which Chase had to fight from being slightly jealous over). House and Chase weren’t dating, they weren’t _HouseandChase_ , they weren’t even thinking about dating. Yet, every time he saw House he couldn’t think about anything but House’s lips against his. House’s weakness was Vicodin, and Chase’s… well, Chase’s seemed to be House.

House leaned up to Chase kiss Chase’s ear, only stopping to whisper in it, “Take the fucking cat.” With that, House leaned back against Chase’s couch, resigned to the comfort, and apparently he was looking for the remote.

Chase rolled his eyes with a chuckle, “You’re an ass,” he muttered. He padded over to the other side of the couch, taking the orange cat in his arms. She mewled at the movement, before curling up into the warmth of Chase’s chest. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to Behold’s head and walked into his room. 

Lo was sleeping on the window seat, her white fur a stark contrast from the blue chair. Placing Behold on his bed, and giving Lo a pat on the head, he walked over to his closet. Grabbing the spare bedding (and a sweatshirt for himself), he went back to House.

House huffed, “You were serious about that?” Chase dropped the bedding on the chair next to the couch. “I’ve seen you naked, multiple times, and I can’t sleep in your bed?” 

Chase motioned to the couch. “Nope! You can sleep on my couch.” Chase gave him a thumbs up before grabbing his sweatshirt and throwing it over his body. 

“You’ve even covered up your chest!” House exclaimed, his eyes darted to Chase’s thighs and the appendage in between them. On top of the blankets next to him Chase grabbed a pillow, throwing it at the older man.

“Pervert,” he accused. 

House shrugged, he didn’t mind it. He already knew what Chase looked like under the ridiculous boxers Chase was wearing, (even if they made Chase’s ass look flawless, and god damn it they did). He didn't have to imagine, he just had to remember. “Well, if you’re not going to be of help, can you move? I’m trying to get access to your pay-per-view.” 

“Don’t buy porn on my credit card!” Chase protested, leaning down to grab the remote from House’s hand. “I’m confiscating this.” He waved it in front of House, House only smiled, obviously not mad. Chase stood up, walking away from House and House definitely did not look at Chase’s ass as he walked away. 

“You’re going to make the couch for me, right?!” House called into Chase’s apartment. 

Chase poked his head out of the bedroom door with a smirk. “You can do it! I’m going to sleep.” House flipped him off from the couch. He looked at the stack of blankets on the chair and huffed.

“Of course, make the guest do it.” House looked over at Chase’s door, “You know, cripples used to have other people make their beds for them.” Chase let out a laugh at House’s grumbling. 

Would it be that harmful to sleep with House? He didn’t know if they were there yet. They fucked, after they finished they parted ways. This would be their first time sleeping at the other’s place and there wouldn’t even be sex involved? They’d been sleeping together for one month, which really wasn’t long. Maybe, it was best to start like this. No strings, Chase just really didn’t want to hear House being annoyed all night.

That was definitely the excuse.

“If you’re gonna be that annoying about it, just come sleep with me,” Chase offered. House stopped, eyes narrowing.

“No cats in the room.” Chase looked over at the two cats on the window seat and picked them up, much to their chagrin and let them run wild in the apartment. 

“Are you coming?” Chase asked, he motioned for House to come into the bedroom. House didn’t need to be asked twice.


	2. month two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> House was observant, it was his job. That was the totally reasonable explanation as to why he kept noticing small things about Chase. Definitely not because he was starting to like the blonde.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey y'all! here's chapter two! i know technically it's two days late i'm sorry i was really uninspired. but! i'm super inspired for next chapter so that will hopefully come out sooner. i hope you guys had a wonderful fourth of july!! comments and kudos are always appreciated! please give me feedback i thrive!! stay save loves!!
> 
> xoxo, ollie

Chase was pretty, far too pretty for House. Chase was soft angles and pretty blushes, an Australian accent wrapped up in the mouth of a sailor. It wasn’t like House’s language was much better, or better at all, but it was different coming from Chase’s mouth. 

House now knew far too much about the blonde laying in his bed. But, if there was one thing House learned above anything was, he couldn’t like Robert Chase. Chase was gorgeous, good in bed, funny and charming to hell. But, House didn’t do relationships. He didn’t fall in love and he certainly didn’t date a colleague.

The last time that happened, House ended up with a bum leg and a pain med addiction. He wasn’t going to let that happen to himself again. So, despite fucking Chase for two months and getting to know him in a way no one besides Stacy and Wilson knew him, House wouldn’t let himself like Chase.

Chase wasn’t a boyfriend (that word seemed completely juvenile to House), he wasn’t a friend, or someone House liked. He was an employee, that House had sex with. Simple, easy. No strings attached. 

The no strings attached rule didn’t stop House from noticing small things about the Australian, with plush lips and kaleidoscope eyes. It didn’t stop House from growing to enjoy the little things like Chase’s quirk of a smirk, to the happy wide eyed look he got when he realized something.

Just because he noticed things, didn’t mean he cared. It meant he noticed things, observed things. It was his job to notice things, it was his job to see the quirks and get under others’ skin. House was just as brutal to Chase now as he was two months ago. He still bullied and belittled him and watched his face twitch with anger. Nothing changed with House noticing things, just that House knew a bit more about Chase.

Chase shifted next to House, the two of them watching a movie in House’s bed. Just some normal compulsory cuddling that comes after fucking someone into a bed so hard he forgets his own name for a little bit. Chase was soft, blue eyes a window to all the feelings he felt. 

House found himself looking at Chase’s eyes a lot. When Chase had a realization they would widen, turn brighter. He would jerk up and his mouth would open in a small ‘o’. He would get excited, talk faster with his accent thickening. The realization often led to happiness, which House could only describe as glowing. His eyes seemed to be the brightest blue. He could see the small flecks of green around the pupils which grew and his grin which was so large and infectious, House smiled too. 

Then, there was the way he looked when he was aroused, the normally bright blue eyes dimming like lights. A half-lidded sultry look making it way onto Chase’s face. A soft smirk, a flutter of surprisingly long and dark eyelashes. A look so wanton and needy that it made House bring him close every time. When he came, Chase’s eyes shut, and his mouth opened and let out the most beautiful sounds. 

House being House, had seen Chase angry far too many times, his eyes clouding over and becoming a stormy grey. Staring him down and almost making House feel guilty, keyword,  _ almost _ . House didn’t feel guilty often, and apparently that was a bad thing, according to Wilson and Cuddy, Cameron hated it. Chase knew it was something that House couldn't change, instead of feeling guilty House felt angry, ashamed. So while guilty wasn’t in House’s vocabulary, frustrated, and ashamed plagued his thoughts often. 

When the storm blew over and the slate grey disappeared and brough blue skies back, sometimes the blue skies weren’t all that blue. Sometimes, they were laced with tears and sadness. House hadn't seen Chase sad often, only once to be exact. After a particularly harsh comment and Chase’s eyes walled off. Dark blue taking over, tears filling the brim, cheeks red and flushed. Chase, when House had seen him sad, didn’t look sad. He looked tired. Done. House didn’t try to remedy it. He pretended he didn’t notice the crack in his voice. A strain that House had never heard before. He watched Chase go, and didn’t apologize until three days later when he showed up at Chase’s unannounced with a pizza and that was it. 

“You okay?” Chase asked softly. He had removed his head from House’s shoulder and burrowed deeper into the comforter. House had noticed that too, Chase was constantly looking for warmth, constantly burrowing somewhere, burying himself in something that was comfortable. The disgusting amount of sweaters that Chase owned really proved that. “I’ve been talking to you for the last five minutes.” 

House didn’t react or anything right away, still processing the look on Chase’s face. “Yeah, just got distracted wondering how I’m going to tell my neighbors I didn’t kill someone in my apartment.” 

Chase hit House’s shoulder, with an offended look he glared at the older man. “Hey! I wasn’t that loud,” Chase protested. Chase was loud. That was a thing that House noticed very quickly. 

Chase had a great moan. He’d found that out the second House had put his thigh between Chase’s legs and the blond grinded against it. The cross between a moan and whimper that Chase let out had House fantasizing for days. After that he learned that Chase was a screamer. And damn it, it was hot. Didn’t mean his neighbors agreed. 

In the two months sleeping with Chase, House had noticed a lot of things. Especially, pertaining to sex. Chase seemed to be hiding things, although, maybe that was his specialty. House never forced him to tell him anything, or well, honestly House didn’t care very much. They weren’t dating and they were barely friends. Fuckbuddies don’t listen to each other’s problems. House didn’t want to hear Chase’s problems.

Which was okay, after all, Chase didn’t want to hear his either. The black and white movie on the TV was just white noise as House and Chase dueled. Chase knowing that what he said was completely wrong. House stared, Chase stared back. It was a game. A constant game between them. Who would break first. Chase smirked and raised an eyebrow, daring House to speak first. House took it, just not saying the words Chase wanted him to.

“You really were, wombat.” The silence, now broken like a spell between them. House looked away from Chase for a second, before looking back. “My neighbors were either getting off to your moans of—” House stopped for a second to raise the pitch of his voice, and put on a terrible Australian accent (he was always more of a British accent guy, anyway). “‘—Oh! Oh House! Yes, please- fuck. Please fuck me!’ Or they—” House’s vulgar expression of Chase’s moans were cut off by Chase.

“I don’t sound like that!” Chase protested, he flicked House on the arm. The older man recoiled, nursing his arm with a scandalized look on his face. He shook his head harshly.

Chase was worried House was going to get mad for a second. Instead, House said, “—Don’t interrupt me,” very plainly before his horrified look turned into a blank stare. “or they called the cops.”

Chase’s eyes widened. House laughed at the  cute look on Chase’s face. “They definitely didn’t call the cops.” House didn’t know if Chase was trying to reassure himself or House or both but either way it made House laugh. 

“If the cops come, hide in my closet. I’ll blame it on porn.” Chase gave him a face that basically screamed ‘What the fuck?’ in House’s face. House put his hands up in surrender. 

“Wouldn’t it be better if there were two people here instead of one?” Most of the time with murders it’s less suspicious if the suspected party isn’t home alone when there’s two cars in front of the house, although, maybe that was just Chase’s thinking. 

House shrugged, brushing the question off. “Maybe.” Chase shrugged too, the conversation now dropped. “It doesn’t matter.” It probably didn’t. If the cops were going to come at any point they most likely would be there already. House reached over Chase’s (bare) thighs to grasp the remote. “General Hospital might be on, let's watch it.” 

Chase rolled his eyes, it’s not like he minded watching General Hospital with House. Actually, he kind of enjoyed it. (Even with all the medical inaccuracies). He barely knew what was going on, and forced House to explain everything to him, which was funny. “I should go,” he whispered, “it’s getting late. We have work in the morning.” Getting up slowly, Chase looked around for his pants, and a shirt that wasn’t House’s.

“Or you could stay here tonight, you look like you’re going to drop.” He really did, even after the shower and the small doze they had before dinner, Chase looked utterly fucked out. He probably was. House, contrary to popular belief, was responsible enough to not let Chase drive when he could fall asleep at the wheel. 

“I suppose I have you to thank for that.” Chase laughed quietly, still searching for a shirt to wear, even House was half dressed at the moment. House laughed too, grabbing one of his t-shirts from the floor on his side and throwing it at Chase.

“You can thank me in the morning, platypus. Hand me that Vicodin next to you.” Chase blushed at the nickname, House didn’t use pet names, there was the very rare slip of ‘baby,’ leaked from House’s lips during sex. (Read as: it happened once and now Chase won’t forget about it.) Chase grabbed the Vicodin and handed it to House, he turned a blind eye as the older popped a few, before handing it back. “Now sit your ass down.” 

“Be careful, House, someone might think you’re clingy.” House flipped Chase off lightheartedly. Chase, now content with staying, took the shirt from House and put it on. It was a little too big on him, due to the fact that House was a good four inches taller than him. It was well worn, and smelled like whiskey and citrus. 

House found that Chase liked being in his clothes. Some mornings he found Chase coming into the kitchen in House’s button up from the night before. Donning it like a trophy and he won. Maybe he did win, House didn’t know. What he did know was that Chase was hot, and he liked seeing him dressed like that. Perhaps it was the caveman instincts or just the beauty in Chase’s eyes that made House’s want to smile and pull Chase into a kiss right there.

Chase was a cuddler, constantly touching House when they were alone, standing closer to him than House allowed anyone else to be. It took House weeks to be comfortable with that, comfortable with the blonde’s longing gaze. The bittersweet look he had when House pulled away from a kiss or moved his hand from between them. Chase slotted himself in House’s side and for once, House didn’t try to stop himself from placing an arm around Chase’s body and pulling him closer. Chase’s head found its way onto House’s chest and somehow House’s hand found its way into Chase’s hair. Chase grinned into House’s chest.

“No clingier than you,” House teased. It was domestic, and normally House would be shying away from that. For once, House wasn’t trying to shy away from touch. He wasn’t trying to pull away, he was letting himself fall for the false domesticity. He was teetering on the edge of breaking, of hitting the ground at sixty miles per hour. He was going, going, gone. But for once, he didn’t mind it. 

Chase fell asleep laying on top of him, House watching him quietly.  _ Doing his job,  _ he reminded himself. He was observant, maybe he wasn’t at work right now, but he was always going to be observant. Chase’s cheeks flushed in his sleep, soft puffs of breath hitting House’s neck. Gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous. Chase didn’t move in his sleep, ever. He was a deep sleeper that could, quite possibly, sleep through the end of the world. It wasn’t bad, it meant House had to stay as still as possible so Chase would stay asleep. Which was fine with him. He guessed he liked seeing Chase happy.

House was following in Chase’s footsteps, the droning of General Hospital playing in the background. It was a rerun House had seen at least three times. Soft puffs of breath rhythmically hitting his neck. He could get used to this. He wouldn’t, but he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and kudos please! i'm always looking for ways to improve! thank you for reading!


	3. month three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chase is rarely surprised anymore when House shows up uninvited, granted, that doesn't mean he doesn't welcome it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey y'all! chapter 3!! this one is a doozy. Trigger warning for making out while drunk, and drinking! stay safe my lovlies, thank you for reading! i'm always ready for feedback! i love y'all!! 
> 
> xoxo, ollie

Chase nearly sighed as he heard the familiar tap of a cane on his door. He removed Lo and Behold for their spots on the couch and placed them in the kitchen before finding his way to the front door. “House,” he greeted, opening the door and allowing the older man to enter. “You really love showing up at my place in the middle of the night, don’t you?” He teased, House held up a brown paper bag and grinned.

“I just love surprising my favorite wombat.” Chase let out a lighthearted scoff, and looked at the bag House was holding. “This time, I come bearing gifts.” House did a dramatic reveal, removing the contents of the bag from the bag. “It’s whiskey.” 

“I can see that.” Fuck, it turns out they would be needing the kitchen today. He opened the baby gate to the kitchen, letting Lo and Behold run amuck. House glared at the cats who were now walking slowly from the kitchen to the living room. “Why’d you come to me? Needed to get your dick wet?” Chase needed to sound bitter, and it worked because House let out a shallow laugh.

“Someone’s bratty today.” Chase blushed at the term. He hadn’t heard that term for nearly a year now since he stopped going to parties. He was glad House couldn’t see him as he grabbed the cups from his cupboard. Plastic cups because Chase was paid shittily and the apartment was expensive enough to keep. “Bad day?” The tone seemed mocking, the day _was_ bad, but he wasn’t going to tell House that. 

He brushed it off and changed the subject. “Answer the question.” Chase had entered the living room to a tense House. House was now quiet, almost trying to inch away from the cat who was already on his lap. 

What made House so fucking scared of cats? Chase placed the two cups on the coffee table and leaned over to House, picking up Behold and placing the orange cat on the floor with a kiss to her head. He gave House a warning glare, telling House to be nice.

“Wilson’s busy with his wife. Apparently she’s upset with him.” House rolled his eyes, reaching for a cup and pouring the whiskey into the cup before pouring chase a cup too, “Ice?” He asked quickly. Chase gestured to the kitchen, and when House proceeded to hold up his cane in a silence response, Chase sighed. Still he took the two cups and brought them to the kitchen for ice.

“What’d he do?” Chase called into the living room, getting a strange sense of deja vu. Maybe it was the fact that three months before House had shown up here drunk and sat on Chase’s couch and hated on Behold. Maybe it was just the accumulating amount of times that House had come to hang out with Chase because Wilson was busy. 

“Spent too many nights at the hospital. Mrs. Wilson the Third thinks he’s cheating,” House piped back. The TV was on now, a rerun of General Hospital playing on low volume. Mrs. Wilson the Third was said in a mocking tone, which truly isn’t surprising for House. 

But it got Chase thinking, could House be interested in Wilson? Could House just be using Chase as a replacement for Wilson? He wouldn’t be surprised if he was. Wilson was _Wilson_ , he’d been friends with House for multiple years now, and hadn’t left him even when House was at his most annoying. Chase seemed to be there only when Wilson was busy. Even before House and Chase had started their _thing_ , (Whatever the hell it was.) Chase had wondered if there was something between the two. He was spiraling into his thoughts now.

Chase shook his head to get out of his trance. “Is he?” He asked, perhaps it was a way to get House to say if he was sleeping with Wilson, he didn’t know. 

“Is he what?” Chase handed House his glass, now with ice, and watched as House took a long sip. 

Chase took a sip of his own before responding, “Cheating?” The whiskey burned down his throat as he took a sip. He took pleasure in the taste and non-verbally praised House’s choice in whiskey. 

“Probably.” House shrugged. Chase chewed on his lower lip before holding up his cup between the two of them as if he was doing a toast.

“Cheers,” He replied gloomily. Wilson’s relationship wasn’t something he was interested in. House, however, was something he was interested in. “So,” He started slowly.

“So.” House replied. It was boring, stunted and then Chase looked up and smiled. House smiled too. He took another large sip of his drink, nearing the end of it. The burn was nearly non-existent. When he did feel it it was salvation.

“Why do you hate cats so much?” Chase asked. House stared. Chase stared back. Neither seemed to budge in another one of their silent duels. House looked as if he was about to speak before he stopped and chugged the rest of his drink. He then started pouring himself another drink. “That bad, huh?” 

House cracked a smile at Chase’s weak attempt of a joke. “If we’re getting personal I want to be drunk.” Chase let out an actual laugh, of course, House had made him chuckle, or let out soft snorts, but not really a full belly laugh. It was probably the fact that House was slightly tipsy, after all, Chase knew House was a lightweight, but House started laughing too.

And then they stopped.

And the world, which seemed to have stopped moving, time seemed to have slowed, it was just the two of them, restarted. Chase went to pour himself another drink, but he stopped himself, taking a swing straight right from the bottle instead. “We’ve swapped spit enough time for that, I think.” He saw House swallow, and then House nodded. 

“Yeah, we have.” House grabbed the bottle too, taking a sip himself. He turned towards Chase, Chase moved closer to him. They weren’t far from each other, even Chase felt a small buzz from the whiskey. He stole the bottle back from House with a weak smirk. 

“So, tell me why you hate cats?” Chase prompted, House tore his eyes away from Chase and nodded. Almost as if he was saying, ‘Right, I forgot about that.’

“When I was nine, I had a cat,” House started. Chase raised his eyebrows, he couldn’t imagine House having a cat. Especially when all House had told him about his childhood was the constant moving around. “The cat once attacked me. I was nearly blinded in one eye, I’ve been afraid of them ever since.” House and Chase ended up back into their staring contest, Chase looking concerned until House broke out laughing.

“Fuck you, House.” Chase pushed House with his hand, watching as House continued laughing. And like earlier he started laughing too. He didn’t know when laughs with House became infectious, leaving his body trembling and him gasping for air. Tears of mirth in the corners of both of their eyes. It seeped into their bones and left a sticky sweet residue of content where it hit. Laughing with House was comfort, and something he’d never thought he’d do. “Tell me the truth.” 

House gave him a pointed look, the burn of whiskey coursing through his veins, numbing the sharp unrelenting pain in his thigh. “I was chased by a cat when I was younger; bit me on the ass. I mean that literally. The cat was a nasty fuck who lived by the base. I hated it. Cats are all the same to me.” 

Chase blinked, slowly, and then he broke out in laughter. “House, that’s the dumbest fear I’ve ever heard.” He continued laughing, only stopping and seeing House drinking the bottle of whiskey like it was water. “Seriously? You got chased by a cat and now you're terrified of cats?” 

“When you put it like that…” House trailed off. Chase took the bottle from his hands and took two very large sips. The bottle was two-thirds gone now. They really should put it away. 

“By the time we’re over,” Chase didn’t even notice him acting as if they were dating. House did, for once, he didn’t care. “I’m going to make you love the cats.” He said it like it was a fact. Maybe it was. It was probably a trap. But, House was okay with being caught.

The bottle ended up back in House’s hands for only a second before it was being taken back by Chase. Soon, secrets and sips were being traded between them. Both of them inching closer to the other. It was the most they’d spoken since before they started sleeping together. They were still (albeit: shaky) friends and they still talked, it’s just they’d seen each other’s dicks now.

“Last sip.” House held up the bottle. It was technically Chase’s turn to drink. Chase reached for the bottle only to have House yank it away. 

“Give it here.” Chase told him, reaching for the bottle again. House toyed with the neck in his hands, holding it far out of Chase’s reach.

“Uh-Uh, I think I should get it.” Chase rolled his eyes, far too drunk to actually be mad at House’s antics. “I bought the bottle.” House did buy the bottle. Chase squinted at him, leaning over the pillow in between them to retrieve the bottle. yeah 

“You brought it here,” It was a weak defense, but drunk House seemed less defensive than sober House. Didn’t House say it was a gift for him? Chase couldn’t clearly remember, too many hours ago.“You’re already drunk, lightweight.”

Unfortunately, House clearly saw right through that defense.“You’re drunk too, wombat.” Chase cursed under his breath, once again leaning over House to grab the bottle.

“Oh hush, my place, my last sip.” It seemed to work for a couple seconds, House teased him with the bottle before yanking it back. 

“I’m older,” He protested, like a child. Chase laughed at that before letting out a deep sigh. House really thought he won. Chase needed to prove him wrong.

“You can’t use that reason in a relationship where there’s a twenty year age difference.” Both drunk brains ignored the comfortable use of the word relationship. They weren’t a relationship. They would never be a relationship. 

“Hm, if you want the bottle, come get it.” Chase did want the bottle. He would get it. Chase discarded the pillow separating them. Moving across the couch so now he was straddling House’s lap. Far more comfortable than he should be.

“I don’t need the bottle.” Chase whispered, he leaned forwards, capturing House’s lips in a kiss. House was caught off guard at first, but soon relaxed into the kiss. Chase pulled away before it could get too heated and grabbed the bottle from House’s now relaxed hand. “Sorry, House,” He said sarcastically and then he took the last sip. 

Placing the empty bottle on the table, he gave House a shit-eating grin. A bit sloppy thanks to the whiskey. “You little minx.” He cursed. Chase let out a laugh, he only stopped when he realized House was staring at him. House’s eyes darted down to Chase’s lips.

This time, House connected their lips. Pulling the blonde close by his hips, leaving one on his waist, the other went to grab Chase’s chin. He tilted Chase’s chin up, lips connecting in a kiss far more soft and slow than any other kiss they’d ever had. Quickly Chase’s arms wrapped around House’s neck as if they belonged there. 

The small whimper that escaped Chase’s mouth as House bit down softly on the younger’s lower lip, was pure and utter bliss. He opened his mouth just wide enough that House could slide in his tongue. Time passed like molasses, slow and sweet, savored by both. Chase hummed happily into the kiss, shifting on House’s lap. 

House’s hand on his hip tightened, there were fireworks going off in his brain. Him and House had never kissed like this before. They were always chaste, or trying to distract the other. This kiss had a hidden passion that made Chase’s senses explode. The smell of citrus flooded his nose, the taste of House and whiskey melted on his tongue. His eyes shut, but he could still feel everything, the blood pounding in his ears, only drowned out by the pounding of their hearts.

He only let go of House when he went to remove his t-shirt, House and him had had sex too many times to count. Never like this, never on a night where he’d felt so good, so _alive_. House stopped him though. Disconnecting their lips and pulling away. “Wait,” he said softly. Chase pulled away, cocking his head to the side. House looked different, pupils blown, lips bruised, cheeks flushed. “We’re drunk.”

They’d had sex while drunk before. Or, not drunk, but tipsy. What would be the problem? It wasn’t something new. “We get drunk together often, House,” he playfully reminded the older man. House looked hesitant, uncomfortable in a way that Chase had never seen House uncomfortable before.

“I know.” House was being responsible for once. Chase would’ve been proud if he wasn’t aroused. “Believe me, I want to fuck you into this couch so very badly,” both let out a shallow laugh at that. It felt right. Both of House’s hands rested on Chase’s hips. “I don’t want to take advantage.”

It felt genuine, Chase was almost confused. Except for once in his nearly thirty years of living, he wasn’t. He smiled softly, almost worried to look House in the eyes, “Yeah, I understand.” He paused for a second, before moving to get out of House’s lap. 

“You can stay here.” House smirked, keeping Chase planted in his lap. Chase rolled his eyes, a playful glint making him laugh. He shifted so his legs were sideways over House’s lap. He watched as House patted around the two of them for the remote. Chase reached over and grabbed it from under the throw pillow. “General Hospital or porn, Robert?”

Chase scrunched up his nose. “Don’t call me Robert, you sound like my father.” Chase looked at the TV, then back at House. “Neither, there’s probably some old movie on, just play that. We’re definitely not watching porn.” At least, they weren’t watching porn with Chase in House’s lap. 

“I’m old enough to be your father, Bobby,” House remarked with a sly grin. Chase rolled his eyes, turning away from House’s stupid blue eyes and annoying grin. Vertigo played in the background of their conversation now. Chase moved yet again, (he was surprised that House wasn’t hard from the amount of shifting Chase was doing), leaning his head on House’s shoulder.

“Don’t call me that either. It makes me sound like I’m a sixty year old pervert.” He let out a small scoff like gasp. “Oh, just like you.” House sighed. 

“I can push you off of me, Robbie.” Chase let out a small laugh. 

“You won’t,” Chase told him. House shrugged, maybe he would, maybe he wouldn’t. “Robbie is acceptable. I guess.” He added the ‘I guess,’ to mask the happiness that Chase had actually felt. “If you get to call me, Robbie; I get to call you Greg.” Three months sleeping together and they just started calling each other by their first names. It was a bit unconventional. 

“I guess that’s fair, little Brit,” House reasoned. It was weird for him too. The only two people to call him Greg were Wilson and Stacy, and it was a different level of comfort with both of them than it was with Chase.

Chase flipped House off. “I’m not British, _Greg_.” 

“Keep telling yourself that.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading! comments and kudos are appreciated!


	4. month four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes your employee shows up at your place one evening, what do you do? Play piano for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey y'all! here it is!! the final chapter in the second installment. this was such a fun fic to write and i'm so glad i got to share it with you guys, i'm sorry this chapter is coming so late, i tried my best. the third fic will finally be canon timeline, and i will be going all the way to season 8 with this, i have the whole thing planned out. have a wonderful week my delights! comments and kudos are appreciated! stay safe!!
> 
> xoxo, ollie

The night that House had heard knocking on his door he truly expected it to be Wilson. After all, it was always Wilson. House was comfortable with Wilson, he didn’t mind when the brunette came over. They vegged out on pizza and watched fights.

But, it was Chase at his front door. It was House’s turn to be surprised. House looked at Chase, watched as Chase went to speak and shut the door in his face. He limped as fast as he could to the kitchen to see the date, it wasn’t a Tuesday, (of course him and Chase had days planned out) and he wasn’t supposed to go to Chase’s.

He squinted at the calendar on the wall and limped back to the front door, opening it to a pouty Chase. (If he silently remarked that the blonde was adorable when he pouted, his subconscious elected to ignore it) “What’re you doing here?” 

Chase seemed to brighten up quickly and grinned at House. “You always show up at my place unannounced, I thought I’d return the favor.” Some favor, huh. House stepped out of the way allowing the blonde to enter his place.

He suddenly felt uncomfortable, his place was messy. Chase had seen his place before, briefly, before they went to House’s bedroom, but it was a mess at the moment. It had been a bad pain day, he’d left work a bit early, most likely leaving Cameron and Chase just slightly worried.

There were books cluttered around the place, covering most surfaces, pillows on the floor and a crumpled blanket lying on a couch, and an open book from where he had been sitting. Even when Chase did come over, House tidied up a tiny bit. Mostly in the bedroom, but still tidied up enough.

When Wilson came over, he truly didn’t give a shit what his apartment looked like. Unlike with Wilson, House apparently cared what his place looked like when Chase was over. “Touching,” he remarked sarcastically, “The moles okay?” The moles meaning the cats, of course. The little gremlins had ended up growing on him, not that he would ever admit that.

House did have to admit, it was still jarring to see Chase dressed so casually. They called each other by their first names, went to the other’s place on a regular basis. Hell, they’d seen each other naked! Still, the weirdest part about this thing was seeing Chase sans his sweater vests, and ugly ties. Seeing him in t-shirts and more casual jeans, sometimes sweatpants was almost shocking. He’d been so used to Chase’s terrible business casual style, he hadn’t expected to see his terrible  _ casual  _ style. 

“The cats are fine, they won’t miss me too much for one night.” Chase seemed to be telling the truth. Although the interaction wasn’t exactly awkward, it wasn’t as comfortable as it normally was. “Didn’t think you cared.”

“I don’t, never did.” House had a thing about that. Over-correcting. He seemed to do it often, it almost made him look more guilty. (Read as: made him look more guilty.) However, House was a brilliant liar, and his brilliancy continued on with the fact that he was brilliant at pretending he was a terrible liar. 

It didn’t make any sense in his head, it did make sense when he put it into actions.

“Harsh,” Chase hummed softly, he entered the living room more, glancing at the books, a well worn textbook was functioning as a coaster for a cup of something, (Coffee? Coke?) with other books and knick knacks surrounding it. He smiled at just how lived in House’s place looked. He’s been here but he never really connected how much the place was truly House’s.

“Thank you, I try my best.” House had a sarcastic smile spread across his face making him look like the cheshire cat. Chase rolled his eyes, Chase went to the book cases first, amazed at the sheer amount of books that House had.

House couldn’t deny the fact that he enjoyed seeing Chase smile. How could he when Chase’s smile was one of the most gorgeous things he’s ever seen. His eyes brightened and he showed his perfect teeth, sometimes he’ll let out a quiet laugh.

House didn’t know what he felt for Chase, it was different than what he felt for Wilson, far different. Wilson was House’s best friend, someone who was always there for him, but it wasn’t the feelings he felt for Chase. 

Sometimes, he thought what he felt was close to what he used to feel for Cuddy, or Stacy. Or, maybe not Stacy, because he was in love with Stacy. He used to see her in everything, but Cuddy was light adoration. He saw her beauty and liked hearing her laugh and smile. But, it never went farther than that. 

Stacy was yearning, lost love, she could never handle him, but Cuddy was someone that not only tolerated House but fought back. Of course, they often sounded like they were fifteen and not in their thirties and forties, but it was still there.

Chase was still different than that. Maybe it was because Chase was a guy. He had boyish features, yet still had soft blonde hair, kaleidoscope eyes, and plump lips that begged to be kissed. Sometimes, House found himself staring at them, remembering how it felt to have them brush against his. The taste of sweets and cinnamon lingering in the back of his mind.

“You have a piano?”

Chase’s voice brought him out of his thoughts, he hadn’t even noticed that Chase had traveled until Chase was grazing his fingers over the top of House’s piano. “You’ve been here before, it's not exactly small,” House mocked “Do you need your vision checked?”

Chase let out a small chuckle before looking up at House. “I’m normally preoccupied when I’m here.” It’s true, Chase had mainly seen House’s bathroom and House’s bedroom at this point, he went into the kitchen every once in a while. But, they’d never really hung out in the living room.

“You’re funny, you can be preoccupied now.” House points to the hallway leading to his bedroom. He was always up for sex with Chase, honestly, he wasn’t surprised that Chase was good. 

“No thanks,” Chase hummed softly. He had played piano as a kid and early teens, favoring theatre and orchestra over it, but he’d never been serious about it. Violin was his musical passion, something he’d debated going to college for. 

“A shame, I was getting excited.” House was being sarcastic, even if Chase’s ass did look good in the outfit he was wearing, no matter how bad the outfit was. 

“Don’t be daft, maybe later” Chase said as if there would be an after. “Do you play?”

“That’s a dumb question,” House scoffed instead of actually answering, “Of course I play, I own the piano.” Chase looked down, it was a dumb question.

“Can you play for me?” He asked softly, looking up at House with such genuine yearning to want to know more about the older man. 

“I’d rather not play for you.” It sounded harsh at face value, but Chase knew (or at least hoped) that he didn’t mean it that way. 

“Pretend I’m not here,” Chase pleaded, House snorted, rolling his eyes. 

“I’d love it if you weren’t,” he retorted. Chase recoiled at that, looking a bit hurt. House almost felt bad, he watched as Chase turned towards the door, pulling away from the piano like it was a hot stove. 

“Oh, alright. I’ll leave then.” House looked down at the floor, from the corner of his eye he could see Chase walking towards the door, sliding on his shoes and getting ready to leave. 

“Wait-” House cut off, Chase turned back to him. House felt his mind go a bit blank. Chase looked hurt, House began limping towards the blond, only stopping at the arch that entered his kitchen. He didn’t want Chase to leave. “Stay, I want you to stay.” 

Chase’s smile was enough to make House feel less sure of himself then he’s felt in awhile. Except, despite these feelings him and Chase still weren’t anything, they weren’t dating, they could barely be considered friends.

Chase slid off his sneakers and removed his jacket and came back into the apartment, he came close to House. House more comfortable with Chase being close to him than he was with anyone. (besides Wilson, but Wilson’s wouldn’t count, House could never)

“You’re like a snake,” Chase said simply, there was no further explanation. He probably just assumed that House would understand, but for once, House didn’t. Instead of admitting that he didn’t understand, House just pawned it off as a joke, because truly, that’s what he did. 

“I don’t need something warm under me to digest my food, moron.” That worked. Chase let out a small chuckle that he usually did at House’s humor. It was a different reaction than the often disgusted or shocked look that Cameron had, and honestly, House was thankful for it.

“That’s what you're denying? Not the cold blood or scales?” House shrugged, he liked snakes, but honestly he kind of blanked on the characteristics of them for a couple seconds. 

“How would you know I don’t have those things?” House retorted. 

“I’ve seen you naked and I’ve slept with you. You’re a warm human being.” Chase gave House a deadpan smile. 

“If you shut up, I’ll play for you,” House attempted weakly, House slid onto the piano bench allowing Chase to slide onto it next to him. 

“Consider me silent then.”

“You just spoke, Robbie,” House chastised, he ignored the bloom of Chase’s blush from the use of his first name. He never got tired of seeing that. He had to admit, Chase looked cute when he was flustered.

“Sorry, Sorry.”

House knocked Chase with his shoulder causing Chase to hold up his hands in surrender. With (very little) hesitation, House looked up at the piece of sheet music on the piano. A Chopin piece he’d bought when he was in his early twenties and had perfected a couple years later. It was still nice to have the slight reminder of the notes.

He brought his left hand down on the keys, playing the first two notes, the low tones resonating throughout the apartment, he used his left hand only for the first couple of beats. (There would definitely be a sex joke hidden in there if he wasn’t so focused on playing) 

When he added in his right hand it glided down the piano, his fingers going as fast as they could in a practiced manner. His mind fell victim to the patterns of the piece. House’s brows furrowed as he stayed deep in concentration. 

The piano had always been his thing, he started when he was five and hadn’t stopped since then. Every military base he lived in he brought a piano, there wasn’t much to do besides that. His father was strict, damn near cruel, the ice baths that kept him on his toes. Perhaps that’s why he’s the way he is. 

He brought all his emotion out in music, after all how can someone tell you slept in the yard for two nights in a row if you violently banging out Für Elise on the choir room piano? House played far too much music for him not to be able to use it as an outlet, he had his piano, he had his Vicodin, he had his puzzles-er-practice. And now, well now, he had Chase. 

Even when he was lost in the music he could feel Chase’s burning stare. He was getting to the center of the piece, allowing his hands to slow. It was beginning to sound like an easier piano piece, rare jumps and a couple flutters. His hands stayed slow and steady. 

Suddenly, they were on the move again. Chase stared in awe, the feeling he felt was the feeling he got when there was a code, his heart racing, his mind blurring. He couldn’t process anything but his breathing and the music echoing around them. Somehow, it was exhilarating. It kept his blood pumping and his mouth dry.

It was something years of care had taken to perfect, years of playing and listening and care that House had for piano that made Chase’s gasp drop. He only looked up when House stopped playing. “Wow.” Chase breathed. “You’re amazing.”

House laughed, holding up his hands, “Long fingers,” He remarked softly. He looked Chase up and down with a seductive smirk. “You know what they feel like.”

And the moment was ruined. Chase let out a scoff and turned back towards the piano. “You’re awfully vulgar, you know that.” One of House's stray fingers glossed over a black key and pressed down softly, the somehow light and deep not resounding between them.

“More than aware, pretty boy.” House had a wolfish grin on his face leading Chase to hit House’s shoulder with his and give him a look of disgust. He elected to ignore the lightheaded feeling that “Don’t deny it, you like it.” 

Chase rolled his eyes although, what House said was true, he did like it. He was often the only one who laughed at House’s jokes or joined in sometimes. He enjoyed House’s antics and maybe that was a testament to the fact that House rocked his world a couple nights a week but to him it wasn’t  _ just  _ that. He truly liked House’s company. “I’d like it if you play me something else,” He played quickly, blue eyes drawing in House like a siren to a sailor.

House shook his head, “Nope! You heard one song.” House gave him a done look refusing to fall victim to Chase’s puppy dog eyes that could quite possibly end wars. That was an exaggeration, but they were strong. In the four month House had slept with Chase getting to know him better and better as time went on, House had learned the many many pouts that the Intensivist sported. He totally didn’t believe any of them were adorable. (As House always said though,  _ everyone lies _ ) “You’ve reached your quota for the month.”

Chase raised an eyebrow, “Oh, so I get a monthly song now?” House nodded in response, his fingers dancing over a couple more keys but not pressing down. “Am I allowed to cash in my song for next month early?” Chase asked.

“Theoretically, yes. You won’t a have a song for next month though,” House warned, Chase shrugged.

“Not if I cash in the next months song, next month.” Chase grinned smugly. House squinted, trying to see what Chase was getting at.

“This is a trap, and I should say no.” Chase’s facial expression changed to a more “innocent” look quickly. House continued glaring at the blonde sitting next to him.

“Just play me the song, old man,” He joked, pressing a random note on the keyboard. House brushed Chase's hand away, causing Chase to move back. Once again, House’s fingers brushed against the piano, this time playing a tune Chase was far more familiar with.

As the opening notes to Phantom of the Opera played, Chase raised his eyebrows. It wasn’t that he was surprised that House knew Broadway music (that was definitely part of it though) it was the fact that he had it memorized. 

Of course, Phantom of the Opera was one of the most famous musicals on Earth, not to mention one of the most known songs but most people don’t play Chopin for fun and then just chime in with Phantom because they were bored.

Then again, House wasn’t most people. House’s right hand played the melody of the song, familiar to Chase as something he used to listen to on a daily basis. House’s right hand jumped, still performing the melody as the two parts blended together.

The way House played piano was the opposite of the way he approached a problem. The way he approached a problem was scattered thinking, often using metaphors or randomly trailing off in the middle of thoughts. Whereas, the piano was cohesive, blending together and bleeding out feeling with every note he pressed. The two songs that Chase had heard him play had left his mind reeling and his heart racing.

House’s hands spread farther apart, his right going towards Chase’s side of the pianos, playing chords that could barely be heard the notes were so high. Yet, they still fit in the music. It still sounded good. House finished with a flourish and Chase was left smiling at him with a wondrous look on his face.

“Didn’t expect you to be a theatre fan,” Chase teased. House resumed in his glaring, a fun thing to him. Seeing Chase squirm under his squinted eyes and hardened gaze. 

“I’m not,” House said plainly, which was the truth. He wasn’t. Personally, he didn’t like musicals at all. He knew Phantom of the Opera because it was such a well known song and House had an obsession with organs. “Never stuck at a school long enough to join theatre. Not that I ever would.” 

“I did,” Chase admitted. House didn’t seem fazed, although on the inside he was relentlessly bullying Chase. “I was more of an orchestra kid.” House grimaced. 

“An orchestra kid?” He asked, really hoping Chase was lying or he misheard. Chase nodded as if he was proud. “I always hated the orchestra people, they were obnoxious in a way that wasn’t funny.”

“At least they weren't band students,” Chase chimed in with a laugh. House laughed too, band kids were genuinely the worst. Their stupid laughs and games during lunch. They used to come up to House thinking House was one of them. 

House was not. He was obnoxious in a funny way, or a normally funny way. But, when he finally did stay at a school long enough to do something, he joined lacrosse. He was damn good at it too, a finesse that he didn’t realize he had. It helped that he was very good at reading people, even then. And he wasn’t too afraid to play dirty. “I bullied the band students.” 

“I’m not surprised.” 

How the two of them ended up on House’s couch with a movie on and Chase’s head in House’s lap House did not know. They’d become more comfortable with staying with each other after sex. Which means their current position was probably from them having sex, showering together and them ordering a pizza to share while watching The Breakfast Club. (because Chase hadn't seen it and House would never admit it but it was a crime that Chase hadn’t) 

House’s hand combed through Chase’s wet hair. Chase was both shocked and upset when he learned that House did not own a blow dryer. And now, due to the length of his hair he was forced to let it air-dry. It was a domestic move and although both Chase and House enjoyed the move, neither would ever admit to doing it. “Did I tell you we’re getting a new minion?”

House really treated the team as their pets. Everytime he got a new one (only once so far but here’s the second one) he told Chase like he was a father telling his son he had a surprise for him. “We are? Did you hire them yet?”

“Nope! Mommy’s letting me do it though.” It took a couple of seconds for Chase to realize that House was talking about Cuddy. He had a way of doing that, speaking about her in a way that would give even the most vulgar person whiplash. 

“She shouldn’t,” Chase stated frankly, House shrugged, Chase could feel it around him. He knew House agreed and in all honesty, House shouldn’t have any responsibilities. He won’t do them. But, Cuddy keeps making the mistake of giving him them and then getting mad when House does what House does and fucks it up.

“She shouldn't,” House hummed. His fingers worked on a knot in Chase’s hair. “But she is, and the new junior better not do work. Cameron forces us to do too much of it.” It was different from what they normally did. 

Somehow Cameron had “inspired” them to take on more cases. She’d also started to answer his mail and consults for him, which was different. Chase and House just hung around before Cameron came, taking cases only when they really interested House and fucking around with table tennis or crossword puzzles when they weren’t.

“Is there a reason why you have so many names for us?” Chase had heard House call him and Caneron multiple names, the kids, the minions, the disappointments (that one hurt just a tiny bit) and now the juniors. Why House called them these names he’s always wondered, what the fuck was going through his mind.

“Calling you “my team” makes it sound like I listen to you and actually work with you.” 

Chase raised an eyebrow, he would’ve gotten up if House’s lap wasn’t so fucking comfortable. It was surprising that it was considering the lack of muscle on his thigh, but somehow it worked. “But you do listen and actually work with us.”

“Not often,” House remarked. Chase hit House’s hand as that was the only part of House that was closest to him. House removed his hand from Chase’s hair at that, letting it rest on the back of the couch and the other resting on the arm of the couch. 

“Hey, I didn’t want you to stop,” Chase protested, House snorted with a mumble of “clingy” under his breath. Chase only glared up at him as House continued. “So, do you just shoot down our ideas because you’re bored?” Chase asked. 

House’s hands continued traveling through Chase’s hair. Chase had learned quickly that House was just a bit nicer than he let on. He often did things for his own agenda. The agenda in question being sex, but he wasn’t mean, per se.

He’d learned that surprisingly House was kind of a romantic, even if he never showed it to Chase outside of the comfort of one of their homes. They cuddled after sex and sometimes Hoyuse made food, they drank together and laughed. Sometimes he even caught House staring at him. Or, they would be sitting like they were now with House’s fingers trailing through his head, and House would lean down and kiss Chase on the lips. That wasn’t something that happened often but it happened, and Chase reveled in it every time. 

“Yeah.” House’s tone was short as if he knew the conversation was over. Chase wouldn’t argue with him. Chase didn’t care enough to argue with him. Chase brushed it off like it never happened and he didn’t need to be sitting up to sense House’s smug look that if Chase was sitting up he would’ve kissed it off of the older man’s face.

“Okay, then…” Chase started but trailed off, going back to the topic of the new member of the team, (because Chase could sense House’s bluff even if House didn’t want him to), “You already have people who applied?” It was a stupid question, of course House had people that already applied. House was a famous doctor, a position on his team was coveted by most. 

Before House and Chase had started sleeping together Chase had went on a date with another doctor and when Chase had told her who he worked for the girl had nearly asked him if he could get her a job with him

Fuck, he hoped House didn’t choose her. 

“Technically, yes. Cuddy’s probably just going to hand me her four favorites again and make me choose.” House paused for a second, letting his thoughts fester before resuming his sentence. “I think I'm going to hire off of something trivial, like felonies committed.” Yes, because whether or not you were a criminal was mandatory for a job. Chase chuckled thinking back to his hiring and interview process, House had asked him what his favorite candy was when he went to the movies. He hoped the girl he went on a date with didn’t have a criminal record. 

“Wh- Why would you do that?” Chase asked, confusion so evident in his voice. “More importantly, how would you know?” House snorted leaving Chase feeling almost stupid, however, just being in House’s presence made him feel stupid, quite frankly. 

“They’re more likely to break into places for me, I had to force Cameron to do it and train you in doing it.” House explained it as if it was a simple obvious answer. House made everything seem like a simple obvious answer. “You were hopeless.” Of course, he had to add the small dig on Chase there, what would life be if House made it through a sentence without insulting someone in some way. “And somehow I will unlock their records.”

  
Chase rolled his eyes, “Ignoring that,” He really regretted asking House the question “Ew, don’t say train. That makes me sound like a dog.” And that sentence sounded much kinkier than Chase meant it to. They weren’t in the position to talk about kinks yet, he didn’t know if they ever would be. He couldn’t just Google ‘How to tell your boss you’re into BDSM?’ The correct answer was,  _ you don’t _ .

“You would be my lapdog if I were a villain in a movie.” Chase tried to imagine that but couldn’t instead he grimaced and groaned. He hit House again, this seemed like a common occurrence and House would definitely be complaining about it to him within the next day or two at some point. 

“I feel like I should be offended.” House retaliated by hitting Chase back to which Chase definitely did not let out a squeak. (Read as: He did and House made major fun of him). House smiled innocently when Chase glared at him with a harsh glare. “I would not be a lapdog by the way,”

“Shush, and I’ll give you the morning off.” Chase knew it was a cheap way for House to get him to shut up, but it still worked. House already came in later than the other two, so maybe they could get another round in before they’re forced to go to work. 

Chase debated it for a couple seconds before answering, “Okay, I’m quiet.”

“You spoke, be ready for 8 a.m. sharp.” House gave Chase another shit-eating grin. Chase glared as hard as he could at the older man but House stayed unswayed. 

“Greg!”    
  


And House totally didn't wake up at the same time as Chase in the morning, and he didn't make coffee and breakfast for them, and they definitely didn't go to work together, and it definitely was not domestic, because House definitely didn't do domestic with pretty blondes that he definitely didn't have feelings for. (Fun fact: this entire paragraph is a lie).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you guys for reading! i know this chapter was a doozy! feedback is appreciated and highly encouraged, love y'all!
> 
> xoxo, ollie


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